


ice ice baby

by hoppnhorn



Series: Kinktober [5]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Ice Play, M/M, Summer time lovin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 08:59:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16215761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoppnhorn/pseuds/hoppnhorn
Summary: “It’s just sohotout here.” And then the fucker takes the ice cube, rolls it down his chin, along his neck, and down to his collarbone. “I need something to cool off.”Steveusuallywould suggest using thepoolsitting less than a few feet away. But he’s not that incredibly thick. He knows a game when he sees one, and he’s not about to give Billy any reason tostopputting that ice cube where Steve wants histongueto go.





	ice ice baby

**Author's Note:**

> Day 6 - Icy Play 
> 
> Sorry for skipping day 5 but day 4 took far too long. But fear not, blindfolds will be done later in the schedule. 
> 
> Also, I will not apologize for the title. Stupid and proud.

Heat is all about context.

Sometimes it’s great. Something to cuddle up to and crave. 

Until it’s like _this_. 

It’s a scorcher, so the weatherman says. The kind of summer heat that sticks to the skin and makes it feel heavy the second it hits. It’s _disgusting_. 

Except when he’s out by the pool. Steve _loves_ the heat in this context. He’s practically naked and, well.

So is Billy. 

Because, apparently, Billy doesn’t believe in modesty _ever_. 

And California makes the smallest swimsuits of all time, according to the tiny _tiny_ speedo on the guy’s body. 

Which, clearly, Steve doesn’t _mind._ It’s a great view. Billy has been lifting at home in his free time, which is _ample_ in the summer. And he’s been hanging out at the Harrington house since the end of school. 

First to watch Max.

Then to watch _Steve_. 

Now he’s a warm, golden brown from his toes to his nose, excluding the small sliver of skin over his hips. 

Which Steve has mapped with his lips and fingers -- several times since the beginning of this _thing_ they’ve started. Turns out he’s into Billy. Like, _really_ , into him. 

And Billy must like him back because the guy has been appearing on his stoop everyday. He _claims_ it’s the heat, and the lack of air conditioning at the Hargrove house, that keeps him coming back like a needy _baby_. But Steve isn’t an idiot.

He knows what it’s like to _want_ someone and be afraid to show them how much. 

Neither he or Billy are card players, _apparently_ , because their poker faces suck.

Steve’s crazy about the big, buff blond on his patio. He can’t stop _peeking_ at him over his magazine, just _staring_ at his browning skin. Billy’s beautiful. It makes it hard to not _look_. Constantly.

“Gosh, it’s hot out here.” 

And well, since when has Billy ever used the word _gosh_ before in the history of _ever_ , Steve looks over his sunglasses across the way. Not for the first time, he gets an eye full of Billy’s flexing abdomen as he takes a drink from a sweating lemonade glass. Steve watches, captivated, as water dribbles down the sides until it drips onto Billy’s skin, running down in rivulets. 

“Pretty damn hot, yeah.” He agrees quietly, taking in the way Billy’s throat bobs with each swallow. The way his stomach muscle bunch when he sits up to set the glass back down. 

“Man, that’s sweet.” The guy comments, his words a little garbled.

And then he’s plucking an ice cube out of his mouth with a mischievous grin that says _I want to play_. It’s a look that Steve’s come to recognize and he licks his lips. Puts down the magazine he’d been reading because _damn_ if he’s going to pay attention to anything but _this_.

“Sweet.” He repeats, like a spellbound echo, and Billy laughs. 

“It’s just so _hot_ out here.” And then the fucker takes the ice cube, rolls it down his chin, along his neck, and down to his collarbone. “I need something to cool off.” 

Steve _usually_ would suggest using the _pool_ sitting less than a few feet away. But he’s not that incredibly thick. He knows a game when he sees one, and he’s not about to give Billy any reason to _stop_ putting that ice cube where Steve wants his _tongue_ to go. 

“Looks like you’re cooling down okay.” He teases, watching as the ice glazes over a nipple, leaves it pebbled and _hard_. The memory of sucking on Billy’s nipples makes Steve’s mouth water and he bites his bottom lip, wishing like hell he was trailing the stupid frozen cube along with this _teeth_. 

He’d take his time. He’d make sure Billy was absolutely _aching_ before he gave in.

“Mmm.” Billy shifts on the lounger, opens his legs until Steve’s eye is drawn to the bulge at the apex of his thighs. The _obvious_ erection growing under his little shorts. “It feels nice.”

“Sure it does.” Steve slowly sits up, has to _brace_ himself from leaping the distance between them to get his mouth on _something_. “Looks good too.” 

Billy pokes his tongue between his teeth in a shark-like grin, lifts his hips like a _jerk_ to show off all the things he _knows_ Steve wants, but can’t have unless he comes to get it. 

_ Here kitty kitty kitty. _

The tease drags the ice down his chest, makes a long path from his left nipple to his right before he circles his belly button, sighs and starts to breathe like he’s having _trouble_. 

And, honestly, Steve isn’t willing to miss out on much more when Billy opens his eyes and says, “Harrington, _get over here_.”

With as much grace as a steamroller, Steve scrambles to get between Billy’s thighs, to get his hands on all the _hot_ skin on display for his eyes. Billy’s body is a visual feast, and Steve gorges himself in a matter of moments before leans in and actually samples the goods. 

Namely, kissing the _hell_ out of the smirking _idiot_. 

“You having fun?” He grumbles into Billy’s mouth, happily savoring the way they both taste too sweet, like sugar right out of the bag. 

Or lemonade mix right out of the canister, as it happens. 

“Am now.” Billy purrs, stretching out under Steve’s body like a large cat. The ice cube, now abandoned, melts steadily on Billy’s stomach. And Steve watches the water run down his sides, wonders idly if he should lap it up.

But then he has a better use for his mouth. 

“Take off your suit.” He orders, moving down the lounge chair until he’s level with Billy’s crotch. 

Usually Billy isn’t one to follow directions, or like being _told_ to do anything. However, he never seems to have a problem getting naked.

Especially when Steve is hungrily kissing his lower stomach, looking at him with _intent_. 

“Oh _yeah_.” Billy murmurs to no one in particular as he hooks his thumbs in the waistband, pulls them _down_ so terribly fast that Steve is grinning. 

He’s not the only one that’s _eager_ when they’re together. Not by a long shot.

Leaning up on his knees, Steve kisses Billy’s lips softly. He lets each kiss grow more airy, more chaste, until Billy is sitting up to try and pull him deeper. That’s when he pulls away, smirking, and lowers his head, takes the sliver of ice cube that remains onto his tongue and sucks the head of Billy’s cock in his mouth. 

“Holy _shit_.” The guy swears, reaching for his hair in an instant, his whole body torquing from the temperature duality. “Steve, holy _shit_.” 

He hums with approval around Billy’s cock, goes to work taking more into his mouth until the head is brushing the back of his throat, tempting him to gag. 

Billy _likes_ when he gags. But this isn’t about _that_. This is about the hunk of ice that he’s pressing to Billy’s shaft with his tongue, rubbing up and down the length of him while he _sucks_. 

There are moments when Steve wonders how he _got_ so good at fucking Billy. But then again, he doesn’t question his good fortune for having relative _skill_ at sucking cock. 

It’s _hot_ , that he can get Billy murmuring curses while simultaneously whispering his name, stroking his hair and lifting his hips from the chair to get _more_ of Steve’s mouth on him. It’s greedy but it’s all passion, which is _precisely_ Billy. 

For once, Steve understands why people lose their minds over summer loves. 

The ice melts after a little while but Steve doesn’t let up, swallowing down the water. He circles a hand around Billy’s shaft, strokes him with each bob of his head until Billy is letting out breathy moans. 

Steve knows when he _has_ him. Knows every tell that Billy has, every single one. When salty precome floods his senses, makes him drool, he focuses on the head of Billy’s cock. 

“Oh _jesus_ don’t stop.” Billy doesn’t have to tell him. He knows. He knows how he likes being stroked through, likes being touched. Running his free hand up Billy’s side, he’s focusing on going faster, sucking harder, when Billy’s clutching his hand. 

And their fingers weave together just before Billy comes on his tongue. 

He tastes good, because of _course_ he does. The guy has been drinking lemonade and doing nothing but sunning for days. 

He tastes like sunshine. 

Steve swallows every drop, watching Billy moan and stretch on the chair, his eyes hooded with pleasure. It’s a view he wouldn’t trade for anything. 

He’d take another plate to the head for a view like this one every day. 

When he pops Billy’s cock from his mouth, licks his lips like a _predator_ , Steve winks. 

And Billy lets out a breathy laugh. 

“ _Fuck_ , you’re sexy.” He declares, squeezing his fingers. “Hot as hell, baby.”

“So much for cooling you down.” Steve jokes, climbing up the length of Billy’s body. 

The kiss they share is sinful, Billy spearing his tongue between his lips to taste himself, fill Steve’s mouth. He’s _greedy_ , his Billy. But he’s also sweet. 

And he wouldn’t have him any other way. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me [@hoppnhorn](https://hoppnhorn.tumblr.com)


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